


midnight hauntings

by Verdantia



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, and kind of ghostly, danny's being contemplative, he's half-ghost and that has Consequences, i mean what did you except tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verdantia/pseuds/Verdantia
Summary: Somewhere off in the distance, the sound of eerie, drifting whistling floated in through his partially opened window. What little moonlight there was filtered through the glass and wreathed his room in shifting shadows.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	midnight hauntings

It was late. Going by the faintly glowing numbers on the clock on his bedside table, it was around three thirty in the morning.

Somewhere off in the distance, the sound of eerie, drifting whistling floated in through his partially opened window. What little moonlight there was filtered through the glass and wreathed his room in shifting shadows.

Oh, it was a haunting night. A night for lurking and hiding and watching, for gazing into the darkness and wondering what it was thinking as it gazed back at you. The very air was charged with it, a cool, uneasy wind winding its way through the leaves of the trees that seemed to favor the edges of empty spaces.

The lone boy in his bed was wreathed in blankets chilled by the night’s aura, eyes flashing open in the presence of the ghostly atmosphere. Despite being long past the stage of fearing monsters under the bed, any other adolescent his age might have felt a deep, wary uneasiness, and perhaps frozen motionless in the hopes that any otherworldly hauntings would pass him by.

Not this child.

Not this teenage boy, normally diminutive in stature and insignificant physical strength. No.

Danny Fenton lay awake in bed, and to him the night sang. It was a melody half-heard, as if from a distance, despite the shadows and chilly draft and eerie whistle that drifted through the darkness.

A few faint wisps of blue vapor escaped from his lips, and the Fenton that was a phantom gave a short sigh, half weary and half anticipatory.

“Going ghost,” he intoned quietly, and as the rings of light encompassed him, the Phantom that was a Fenton lay there for a moment more, letting the melody wash over him. The thrill of it sent his limbs tingling and a rush of energy sweeping through his body.

Then he went intangible and dove out the window, keen ghost sense tuned to his ectoplasmic prey.

Sometimes it was good to be half-ghost.

**Author's Note:**

> written yeaaars ago so please forgive me if it's a little cringy.


End file.
